


Guns and Peonies

by Ladyhydrangeas



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:52:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhydrangeas/pseuds/Ladyhydrangeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly Katz becomes a world champion shooter after her work is done with the FBI. She trades in her badge for a chance at a medal and meets a beautiful woman along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guns and Peonies

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for EatTheRare event. So excited to see what everyone comes up with! Not sure if this pairing has a good ship name yet but I want to call it Chatz. 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter. Rating in story will change.

Bang Bang Bang

The feeling of solid steel vibrating and recoiling from the shots she was firing felt like a comfort. Beverly kept her eye on the target, hitting the center with each round. A crowd surrounds her, watching with avid attention, cheering when appropriate. It was a far cry from her previous job. Hiding down in the labs with a select few. Stopping criminals before they gained another victim on their repertoires. 

Well at least the sound of shooting was similar...

She closed her eyes, breathing in and out once before stepping away from the starting platform. Cheers erupted all around her when the a score was shouted  
an intercom. She smirked at that, the number exactly what she had wanted to achieve this time around. It was a mark of improvement and the feeling settled deep down into her stomach; a feeling of pride and accomplishment that filled her with warmth. She basked in it, turning to face her fans and bowing with flair. Her standard red, white and blue uniform jacket crinkled from the movement. 

This was her life now; applause as she fired perfect shots at a target again and again in competition against other women all around the world. The ultimate goal to gain a spot in the United States Olympic team for the 50m rifle. It was different but it was what she was good at. 

She survived Hannibal. Survived what he had done to all of them. The harsh reality of finding out who the man really was, what the man had been serving, felt more like ice cascading over her skin. Sharp and pin like in shock and terror. Working alongside Will Graham in close corridors, trying to piece together what had happened to him, tired her.Watching Will as he drove himself mad while trying to come to terms with how he felt, saddened her. Looking at Will in a hospital bed, cut open and raw, left her sobbing day after day. She couldn't recall how often she prayed back then. Prayed for his survival in the days where that possibility felt the furthest away.

The events haunted her in her sleep and in the back of her mind during the day. Hannibal could never truly leave there. She doubted the man could ever truly leave anyone who was involved. 

He was just stubborn that way. 

At least he was behind bars now. The chase for him was a long one.

She shook her head from the thoughts, arching her back to relieve some of the tension there. Plenty of time to look back at those memories in the deadest of nights with a glass of whiskey or ten. Beverly sauntered over to her coach, giving into the embrace the man had for her. His smile wide and open, just as prideful as she was with her score. 

“You did great! Almost got it perfect there Bev!” She liked her coach a lot, good Ol' Sam. Balding and sport jacket and baseball cap wearing Sam, with a lean build and a strong frame. He was able to drag her sorry ass out of the darkness that wrapped around her mind constantly a few years back, right after the final capture of Hannibal Lecter. Knew what she could do and told her to change the badge for a medal. 

“You bet!” They traded high fives. “Forms falling a bit in the latter rounds, something to work on. “ She bit the side of her cheek in thought, letting the ideas roll around in her head for future practicing. There was a strength she needed to gain in her arms to keep up the rate of firing she would need to make it to the top. Trips back to the gym might be in her future. 

More than likely will be in her future.

She should probably get back to the gym in the next coming week. 

Sam opened his mouth in an attempt to say something before a crash of loud applause broke out in the stadium. Beverly spun around to catch the last bit of whomever was up to shoot that was drawing in all the attention. She found herself gasping lightly, air filling her lungs only to find no other way to go than stuttering out of her. The woman was absolutely stunning. Her green and white jacket stood out against the blue wall in front of her. The woman's back perfectly curved over her gun, all graceful lines and muscles. Head cocked to the side just enough to get a good view of long elegant locks braided back into a bun at the base of her skull. The protective eyewear they were obligated to have on gently nudged a few strands out of the bun, the strands flying freely in the wind. 

Beverly let out a low whistle.

“Not much information on that one,” Sam declared, taking note and giving a nod in the same direction. “She actually came into the spotlight around the same time you did. Names Chiyoh and not much to say after that.” He looked vaguely interested in her, as interested as any other coach would be. Calculating competition and statistics, comparing the other competitors to their own in their minds. 

That was not on Beverly's mind. 

The woman, Chiyoh, took a step back from the firing spot before turning around and bowing to the audience that was left cheering even louder than they just had. The intercom relayed a score with a number that was higher than Beverly's by mere points. That would throw her into the position of silver instead of gold. Yet, Beverly couldn't feel much disappointment at that realization; she was rather much more impressed. Before thinking about it, Beverly found herself walking towards the other with a bright smile. 

“That was an amazing score. You haven't been in competition for very long have you? Heard from my coach, seems like we came into the world of shooting at the same time. Names Beverly Katz.” She held out her hand, offering it to the woman who was staring back with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Chiyoh.” She had an accent, her words sounded just as graceful as her walk and her shooting style. She seemed to be a woman of some sort of upper class, given first impressions. Someone with a regal air about her. She slung her rifle over her shoulder in a single swift movement, reaching out to take Beverly's hand, giving it a quick shake. Her grip was strong yet gentle.“I have had years of practice hunting in my home grounds.”

The word hunting sent a small shiver down Beverly's spine, a ghost of a voice speaking at the same time as the woman's, accented Lithuanian. Tonight was looking to be more of a ten whiskey night. 

But maybe it didn't have to be. 

“Hunting huh? Maybe you and I can go on the prowl for some decent drinks later.”

The slight smile in return was all that Beverly needed.


End file.
